


Reality, And Not A Fancy

by danglingdingle



Category: Pirates of the Caribbean (Movies)
Genre: Fluff and Angst, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-10
Updated: 2017-06-10
Packaged: 2018-11-12 12:18:21
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,243
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11161686
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/danglingdingle/pseuds/danglingdingle
Summary: Will is having second thoughts about his up-coming wedding. Jack’s visits do not help matters.





	Reality, And Not A Fancy

Will Turner sat at the wharfs of Chocolata Hole, looking at the rainbow bowing over the steep hill hiding the vast seas from his sight. Had he turned around, he’d found a mass of fishermen, readying their boats to get out on the open sea again, now that the rains had passed.  
  
For weeks they had been living under the threat of tornadoes and hurricanes, the last word from Kingston being that all vessels were stuck in the harbour, none of the traders daring to sail before the storms had come and done their deed. The fishermen of Port Royal had followed suit, but now that the sun was shining again in what seemed an eternity, the docks were swarming with people.  
  
True enough, Will would have probably had better luck on the other side of the island, where the bigger vessels were slowly starting to pour in and head out again, but the thought of making the trip to Black River in a smaller boat seemed oddly intriguing.  
  
It was four months since Mr. Turner had been engaged to be married to the Governor’s daughter, and two weeks since he’d last seen her, hastily, when Elizabeth had knocked on the smithy’s door late in the evening, clad in her nightgown and slippers.   
  
Soaking wet, she’d stormed right in, headed for the forge to warm up, and gratefully accepted Will’s coat around her shoulders, shivering. She’d come bearing news.  
  
One of the Navy ships had made it through the raging seas and a messenger had been sent immediately for Governor Swann, not five hours prior. Elizabeth hadn’t meant to eavesdrop, but she’d been conveniently behind her father’s door, and couldn’t help but to overhear that the  _Black Pearl_  had been spotted not far from the county of Cornwall, Black River, rumored to have been prying on a shipment of sugar. The tales had instantaneously spread throughout the county, and now the westernmost part of Jamaica was not only trapped under the terrifying forces of nature, but also the threat of the doomed ship.  
  
If the navy had taken those tales in all seriousness, Jack might be in danger.  
  
As soon as she’d delivered the news, Elizabeth had disappeared back into the night with no more than a kiss on Will’s cheek, leaving the young man standing there, mind in disarray, and a hand to his face.  
  
When he plan to go and try to find Jack before anyone else did made its appearance in Will’s mind two minutes later, he didn’t even bother to reason himself out of it. That was precisely what he wanted.  
  
The anxiousness of everything happening around him, yet everyone leaving him out of everything that was happening was grating on his nerves. His opinion was not needed in any matter regarding the upcoming wedding, and he hardly got to see his fiancée, surrounded by chaperones that she was at all times.  
  
Will did, however, try to drown the tiny voice wondering why he was more worried about what had happened to Jack after he’d last left two and a half months ago, than he was of not getting to spend time with Elizabeth. Another, even smaller voice seemed to already know the answer. Will did not listen to either of them.  
  
Instead, he’d persuaded Mr. Brown to send Will to establish a trade route between their co-owned smithy and the busy seaport, one which Will hoped was quite busy enough to hide a pirate and his ship for long enough until they could make their escape. The stand-still did not make things any easier.  
  
Will’s inquiries at the port gave no success - none of the sailors were foolhardy enough to brave the storms, which left Will practically wringing his hands, in the lack of anything more productive to do. Metaphorically speaking. In reality, Jack had brought an interesting ‘homecoming’ present with him as he’d whirled by, leaving behind not only a substantial amount of gold, but a little girl of the age of nine.  
  
The circumstances under which Jack had acquired the guardianship of the child were not unlike how Will had become an apprentice for Mr. Brown. The scrawny little lass was an orphan, working on a trader the  _Black Pearl_  had just happened to come across. The condition of the chit of a girl was so appalling Will daren’t think what exactly it was she’d been through.   
  
So it was that Mr. Brown got himself yet another apprentice, finally agreeing to such arrangements after Will had vowed he’d provide for the child, in return for tuition from Mr. Brown and himself.  
  
Fed, rested and cleaned, the girl had regained the appearance of a human being, and the small town of Port Royal had something to gossip about. The scuttlebutt of how Mr. Turner had come across such a child were stretching from storks to bastards, and everything in between. The only reason Ms. Swann wasn’t dragged into the muck along with Will, was her stature, and while young ladies such as herself were known to entertain young men, none of that had reached the ears of the townsfolk. Of that, Will was grateful. As to the explanation Will himself offered in response to the nosing, the official statement told that Will had found her on his doorstep. How she’d gotten there, the poor, unfortunate child did not remember.  
  
Which was true, despite the fact that she’d had a notorious pirate in tow.  
  
Anna, as she’d introduced herself, had proven a feisty little bundle of keen energy and a reliable nature. So far she’d already learned to work the bellows to precision, and the way her eyes followed Will’s and Mr. Brown’s every move, told that she’d be molding her first nails in a matter of weeks. Even Will himself had not had such natural stance that sang the ode of serendipity - the girl was right where she was supposed to be.  
  
Thus, it was with ease of mind that Will had packed some examples of his work, some essentials and a pouch of coins, compliments of Jack, that Will sat at the wharfs, waiting for the right person to stumble upon.   
  
His mind not far from the task at hand, yet far enough when he marveled at the mark of the covenant with God, that he didn’t notice the footsteps approaching, nor them stopping beside him, until the toe of a boot nudged him in the thigh, “Pretty, innit?”  
  
“Ve--” he almost got the entire word out until his brain dashed from admiring the rainbow and registered the welcome familiarity of the voice, starting Will up on his feet, heedless to how far his satchel fell when he hugged Jack tight to himself, fierce with relief.  
  
“Jack! What are you doing here?!”  
  
“Would you like trying that again, I’m not sure if the Commodore quite heard you,” Jack retorted, chuckling, returning the warm gesture with flourish. “Figured I’d come and see how our Anna’s doing. Fine, I assume?” Jack pried Will’s arms away, holding his hands in his own as if to make sure it really was Will.  
  
“She’s great! Couldn’t be better. She’s been asking about you, worried about the storms, and the rumours.”  
  
“What rumours?” Jack instantly lowered his voice and perked up, letting go of Will, his hand finding his sword without thinking.  
  
Realizing what he’d done, Will glances around, only to find a bunch of men staring at the odd couple with interest, the rest of the docks not caring about nothing but their loads to carry, nets to untangle, and fish to catch.  
  
“Come on. I’ll tell you all about it somewhere safe.” Will steered Jack towards the outskirts of the wharf, planning a route where they’d be in less risk of being detected. “You’ve been spotted.”  
  
\-----   
  
The final turn around the corner, and the men could breath again, and after unlatching the door, Will pushed Jack in rather unceremoniously, only to shove him in the arms of a little girl, face covered in soot and ash, a wide grin on her face.  
  
“Jack! You’re home!” Anna exclaimed, clutching onto Jack’s leg as if she’d never let go.   
  
Awkward, Jack patted the child’s head and pried her away, then grabbed her by the waist and lifted her to his eye-level. “Good day to you, young miss,” Jack matched her grin and deposited her back on the floor. “Now, Anna, next time you do that, prepare to be run through. I don’t take lightly to being surprised, and most of the time when that happens, it turns a tad nasty, savvy?”  
  
Eyes wide, yet nodding in full understanding, Anna wisely kept her mouth shut and offered her hand in greeting.  
  
Chuckling, Jack bowed down and took her hand, giving a sidelong glance at Will’s direction; “She was to become a blacksmith, not a lady. What has Miss Swann been teaching her?”  
  
“Nothing,” Will replied, baffled, another kind of hurricane occupying his mind as he realized the misses hadn’t even been introduced. Somehow, some way, for reasons Will couldn’t explain, there had always been a perfectly good reason why he hadn’t arranged that.  
  
The tiny voice which knew all about everything was snuffed before it got a syllable in.  
  
“Right. And good day to you, miss.” Jack shook Anna’s hand vigorously, then grabbed her by the shoulders, turning her around. “Don’t you have work to do?”  
  
“No! Mr. Brown is resting,” the girl explained, whirling around, then leaning forth conspiratorially, “his gout is bad today.” A shadow of worry passed over her face at the last words, her hands finding the seams of her breeches to twist.   
  
Will landed a hand to her shoulder and crouched down, meeting her sad gaze. “You know what you could do? For us all? Go and make some tea, get the brown bottle off the shelf on the right, and pour a few drops into Mr. Brown’s cup, and take it up to him. That’ll make him feel better, alright?”  
  
Beaming, the child only nodded enthusiastically and skittered off to do Will’s bidding.  
  
“I see you were right,” Jack smiled happily at Will. “She is great.”  
  
Shuffling his feet, Will figured it’d be proper to give some explanation for his rash reply to Jack’s question about Miss Swann; “About Elizabeth…”   
  
“She hasn’t been around much, has she?” Jack made his way towards Will’s room as if it was his own.  
  
Will took in the surroundings, and after making sure everything was in order, followed Jack, finding the man reclining on Will’s cot as if it, too, were his.  
  
Eyes closed, Jack didn’t even flinch when Will tossed his satchel on the floor with a click, and sat down on the side of the cot.   
  
“Elizabeth has been busy.”  
  
“Ah. The wedding, I assume.”  
  
“Yes.” Will honestly did not know what more to say. The tiny voice, on the other hand, was sure babbling, right until it was cruelly slaughtered once more. “The wedding.”  
  
“You don’t sound very enthusiastic, mate. Everything going according to plan?”  
  
“Yes!” Will attempted a bright tone, grievously betraying his nerves whenever the subject came up.  
  
“William.” Jack rolled his eyes and only stared at the man blushing fiercely under his scrutiny.  
  
“It’s not important.” Will began to tug off his boots. “What’s more urgent, is that the navy is after you.”  
  
“Oh, really?” Sneering, Jack merely followed and allowed everything to happen, when Will discarded his boots and attacked Jack’s.  
  
“In Black River. They’ve seen the  _Pearl_.”  
  
“I,” Jack, amused by Will’s maneuvers, helped kick off his right boot, amiably proffering the left onto Will’s lap. “Haven’t been even near Black River in months. We went back to the Isla,” Jack raised a pacifying hand at Will’s shocked expression, then made a fist and sprang out his fingers in an imitation of an explosion. “The Island of the Dead is gone, along with its riches. There’s nothing there.”  
  
“What happened?” Will finally removed Jack’s other boot and deposited the leg back to where it‘d been, making himself comfortable too, stretching his legs on the bed.   
  
“No one knows,” Jack shrugged, “but I like to think it were one of them heathen gods, maybe Thor, wielding his mighty hammer and blasting the bejesus out of the island,” he shrugged again, nonchalant. “At least you don’t need to worry now,” Jack grinned at Will’s clear relief. The blacksmith had never quite liked the sound of an immortal Jack Sparrow as much as the man himself. Jack never quite figured why…  
  
“That’s good,” Will closed his eyes briefly, instantly glad of the storms preventing him leaving for Black River any time sooner. “Then they’re on a wild goose chase, and you have nothing to worry about.” Will opened his eyes again, “as long as you’re here, anyway.”  
  
“Here,” Jack repeated with slight disdain. “Here meaning hiding in the smithy and not being able to so much as poke me nose out the door. Safe indeed, as long as I’m locked in here.”  
  
“You feel imprisoned?” Will wasn’t sure how to react. His own relief was too overbearing for him to see things from Jack’s point of view.  
  
Before Jack could reply, there was a knock on the door, and before either of the men had time to say anything, it opened wide with a thunk. “Your tea, gentlemen,” declared the voice behind a tray with two tankards and a bottle of dark rum.   
  
Jack could not help but laugh a little at the elegance of their little maid, then suddenly clamped his mouth shut as he remembered where she came from. Jack had made a promise to himself that day; that the girl would never have to face anything of the sort again.  
  
“Thank you,” Jack bowed gracefully, playing Anna’s game and accepting the tray, planting it on his thighs. “That’ll be all Miss Anna,” Jack gave a look at Will who only smiled at the girl. “Now go outside and find your friends. You’ve deserved it a hundred times over.”  
  
Will snirtled at Anna’s mischievous smile that reminded him of none other than Jack, as she curtsied and dashed out the door with a skip in her step.  
  
“John must be doing better. Otherwise she’d stay at his bedside until she gets on his nerves a bit too hard.”  
  
“I could swear Elizabeth’s been an influence on her, but if you insist she hasn’t been--”  
  
“Care to answer my question, Mister Sparrow,” Will asked pointedly, taking a tankard from the tray and pouring in a dash of the rum.  
  
“Which one, dearie?” Jack smirked. “The uttered, or the unuttered one? Though I’m not sure if I can--”  
  
“Imprisoned?” Hurriedly, Will splashed the other tankard to the brim, not looking directly at the older man.  
  
“Never when you’re here.”  
  
“And when I’m not?”  
  
Jack could not meet Will’s eyes as he confessed resignedly, “Every minute.” What he left out was the part in which it mattered not where he was. Without Will, he might as well be rotting in a brig somewhere.  
  
“I understand,” Will sighed forlornly, yet, the fact that he did understand completely was conveyed thoroughly. He raised his tankard with a smirk of his own, eyes squinting in archness so rarely found on his face in the company of others than Jack. “To the moments of breathing free.”  
  
“Hear hear!” The men clinked their mugs together, Jack spilling some of his on his hand, and after the salutary sip, he concentrated on sucking the rum off his fingers, leaving Will to his own thoughts.  
  
Thoughts, which ultimately prepared for an interesting conversation.   
  
“It’s not like this with her,” Will mused out loud as if continuing where he’d left off. “It’s never…”  
  
“Never what?” As if on cue, Jack was instantly on the same page. Something was clearly troubling the man, and in Jack’s mind, there could be only one reason for that. “Relaxed? No tension? You don’t want her? What?”  
  
“All of that!” Will became livid, jumping off the cot with his drink and pacing back and forth in the small room. “None of that. She’s too…” Again, Will was at a loss for words, which he hid in downing half his tea.  
  
“Fragile? Verdant? Hemming and hawing until you can’t take it anymore?”  
  
“No!” Will crunched his eyes shut with a frustrated groan. “Yes,” he resigned, shoulders slumped when he met Jack’s inquisitive gaze. “She’s… I don’t know how to explain it. She‘s like…you, only, nothing of the sort.”   
  
“Like me?!” Jack bolted up sitting on the bed, a smirk of pure disbelief gathering in the corner of his mouth.  
  
Suddenly, Will paled, his eyes drawing wide as in horror. “I can’t marry her.”  
  
“Hold on a moment, you said she’s like me?”  
  
Will nodded solemnly, the words creeping out of his mouth as if thieves I the night. “She’s a friend. Like you,” he lifted his gaze from the tips of his socks to catch Jack’s. “But nothing like you,” piped the tiny voice, unhindered. “You’re more than that.”   
  
“More than a friend?” Jack nearly growled at himself for having regressed into only repeating what he heard. He should’ve said something, anything, to guide Will through this bout of nerves every single bridegroom goes through, but the kindle of hope held the reins and directed him towards the opposite. So he sat still, sipped his tea, the image of Will aboard the Interceptor on that first evening branded in his mind forever to spout forth in times like these.  
  
“Sometimes,” Will slumped even lower, shifting his eyes, nearly alarming Jack that he’d fall. “Sometimes I think I don’t love her the way I should.” Withdrawn, almost as if he weren’t present at all, Will continued, “and sometimes I think I love you the way I shouldn’t.”  
  
Jack, wisely, slowly leaned back again, his heart beating as if to race time itself to the finish, but his countenance one of a man who only wanted to learn more.  
  
“This, exactly this!” Chucking down what was left of his drink, Will hastily reached for the bottle and poured himself more, downing that too in a single gulp. When he made to get more, Jack swiped the bottle away with a tut. “No, Will. Clear mind is what you need for this.” He poured himself some instead, and grinned, “Trust me. I know what I’m talking about.”  
  
There was no doubt he did. The way Jack merely sat there, listening intently to what Will had to say, prepared for anything that might come forth, good, bad or devastating, Jack sat there.  
  
“This I could never share with her, this…being, here, like we’ve always been, without having to bother with niceties.”  
  
Jack studied his mug and bit his lip, his fiddling with the ear of the tankard the only thing betraying his growing nervousness.  
  
“Sometimes I wish I’d gone with you. Made that leap, ran from justice.”  
  
“Justice?” Jack snorted, “and have us both hanged when the day comes.” Jack put his drink away, leaning closer to Will, beckoning for him to take a seat.  
  
“Don’t say that, Jack. It’s not going to happen,” Will obliged and returned to his previous stance, opposite Jack.  
  
“And how would you know? You’re not there to come to my rescue.”  
  
Taking a deep, purifying breath, Will stared at Jack in disbelief, then realized that the man had no way of knowing. “That’s what I was going to do today. Just that. To come and find you, to warn you of the Navy on your tail.”  
  
“Ah,” Jack felt a warm tremor course through his whole being. “Well, all the more reason why it’s better to have you here,” he lied through his teeth. “Now, Will, luv, have you noticed you’re not making any sense?”  
  
Scowling at Jack, Will made another move toward the bottle, resulting only in Jack cradling it to himself even tighter, putting the tray on the floor and giving Will his own tankard instead. A half filled mug--not much of a consolation, the dark liquid sadly lolling along the sides, sharing Will’s sentiment. Will had no choice but to accept his fate. He’d have to do this sober.  
  
He took a moment, pinching the bridge of his nose to gather his thoughts, then took a contemplative draught from Jack’s drink. Finally, he opened his mouth a few times in vain, before sounds came out; “Now that I have her…” Will swallowed hard, closed his eyes and then opened them again, staring fire directly into Jack’s heart. “I don’t want her.”  
  
Not wanting to interrupt the flow, or to smile as widely as a man in love could, Jack merely channeled his emotions into the bottle, shifted himself in a more relaxed posture, and waved for Will to continue.   
  
“You brought the wind with you.” It wasn’t an accusation, not with the way Will looked at Jack, so softly, longingly, forgetting where they were, what was at stake here. “You whisked me away from here, showed me a world beyond this one, and ever since…” The pause spoke volumes, yet there was the need for finishing sentences. Jack was not a mind reader.   
  
“The kiss, the first kiss.”   
  
Jack knew well what Will meant. He’d witnessed it with his own eyes after all had been said and done.  
  
“That kiss was as good as goodbye.”   
  
The words hung between the men, until Jack proffered the bottle to Will, who took it gratefully. After a pull, Will sighed again, again bracing himself to hear what the tiny voice had been whispering in his ear all along. For the long, eternal four months, ever since Jack had disappeared… only to return.  
  
“I know she knows it too. That’s why I never see her. She’s never even met Anna, although I am certain she’s heard every single thing about her.” Like finding the thin red line of his thoughts. “She doesn’t want to know her. Not as long as she’s living here, training to follow in my footsteps.” Yes. A conversation had been had. One where Elizabeth had made it clear that the young lady should be housed at the Swann mansion, apprenticed to a trade more suitable for a young woman, perhaps go to school, maybe take Estrella’s place now that she had moved to St. James after a fling with a sailor that’d gotten her pregnant.  
  
This was not what Jack and Will had agreed.  
  
“ _You_  brought her here.” Now, Will’s tone sounded accusing. “You knew, you bloody blaggard, you knew she’s my only chance of legacy. You already KNOW all this!”  
  
“Calm down, Will!” Jack ordered, losing his temper in tune with Will losing his own. “None of this is my doing. I brought her here under the impression that this is where you want to be, with your bonny lass. I have done nothing to cause your pain and suffering with your flighty feelings towards the lady. Nothing. You can’t push this one on me.”  
  
“Yes I can. You’re the reason.” Brazen with his rash nature taking over, Will did not stop to think about his words. “You’re the one on my mind when I’m to meet and greet the high society I have no part in. You are the one who won’t let me sleep, simply because I don’t know where you are! You, Jack Sparrow, are the one I’d marry, if that were at all possible! For fuck‘s sake man, high heavens, can‘t you see? Her kisses are ashes in my mouth, for that is what stopped me from staying by your side!”  
  
“Jesus, Will!” Jack dashed for his boots, pulling them on like running from fire.  
  
At that, Jack stood up and left the room, the bang of the smithy’s door the only thing announcing his leave.  
  
Will dashed after him, only to come to a screeching halt at the faint sound of a sob coming from the vicinity of his feet, from a bundle curled up into a ball next to the door to Will’s room.  
  
“Anna!”   
  
“I don’t want to,” the girl whispered into her knees, not looking up at the worrisome figure, but burying her face deeper into her lap, making herself as invisible as possible.  
  
Will kneeled down slowly, hand hovering over Anna’s shoulder, hesitating, then withdrawing when it seemed even the warmth made her flinch.   
  
As calmly as he could, Will lowered his voice into a soothing cajole; “What don’t you want, Anna?”  
  
“I don’t want to leave.” Her words still only a sigh, until she braved to look up and into Will’s eyes, finding in them the beginnings of the reassurance she needed. Anna straightened her back, wiping her face on her sleeves, and hiccupped with as much dignity as she could garner; “He’ll never forgive you if you give me away,” she nodded towards the doors through which Jack had just sprang through.  
  
Insightful, Will thought, a small smile forming in the corner of his mouth. Small pots, as the Dutch sailors often warned, did have large ears.   
  
“What makes you say that?” Will frowned slightly, having a rather good idea of what was coming next. He just needed to hear it.  
  
“Captain Sparrow said I’d become a blacksmith even if he had to teach me himself,” the little lady nodded determinately as if agreeing with Jack all over again. “Then he said he’d have to be taught first, but that he knew just the man who could teach us both.”   
  
Without any signs of bashfulness in sight, Anna continued, a degree of accusation in her tone, “He was talking about you. He always is. About when you’re old and he’s even older, and I have the smithy to my name, taking care of you both.”  
  
Will could only listen, with his heart on his sleeve, as he realized in a single moment of revelation that Jack had been sharing his dreams with Anna. With Will, he never talked about getting old, never even mentioned expecting to live through the next raid… And here was Will, hearing that the pirate captain had a plan which seemed to include Will’s good self, hearing it from the child Jack had vowed to keep safe.  
  
“Listen,” Will dared to land his hand to Anna’s shoulder, causing the girl to swiftly unravel and throw herself into Will’s arms, a new bout of sobs bursting from her desperate chest.   
  
“Anna, listen to me,” Will smoothed Anna’s back, then hugged her tight. “I’m not sending you away. Mr. Brown is so proud of you, I’m proud of you, and to be honest, we wouldn’t know what to do with you anymore.”  
  
The small giggle sounding against Will’s shoulder confirmed the child was listening.   
  
“I may have to leave for a while,” Will pried the girl to an arm’s length, still holding her firmly, looking her in the eye. “But it’ll be the same as it was when I went to Kingston. I will return. I promise.”  
  
Anna nodded again, visibly relieved that her worst nightmares weren’t going to repeat themselves.  
  
Continuing to hold Anna’s attention, Will brushed away her last tears. “Right now I must go and talk with Jack before it’s too late. I expect you to be asleep when I come back,” he gave a stern look, his eyes gleaming as he added with a grin he couldn’t hold back any longer, “Savvy?”  
  
“Yes, Sir,” Anna smiled back, then suddenly looked like something had just dawned on her. With alacrity, she stooped closer, lowering her voice down to share a secret, “I think he’s waiting for you.”  
  
A pause, a beat, a deep breath to try to hide away the surprise on Will’s face, and he was able to stand up and turn to leave.  
  
Half turned, he looked over his shoulder, quirking his brow in a question, “You really think so?”   
  
\-----   
  
Jack sat alone in his dinghy, an empty bottle at his feet, the thought of going to fetch another one only a glimmer in the back of his mind, in the shadow of more pressing matters.  
  
Everything was playing into Jack’s pocket. Will Turner, a respectable young blacksmith had as much as told Jack he loved him, and all Jack knew to do was leave without a word.   
  
Yet, here he sat, not making a move to haul up sails, to weigh anchor, not even a slice of him wished to get up and sail away. All he wanted to do was to go back. The only problem was that he may have made that impossible.   
  
He clutched at his heart, at the leather binding through the cloth of his frock coat, the letters of marque in the name of the King, signed and sealed by the governor of Port Royal himself. The very man who had issued the headhunt, who saw the benefits and the value the Black  _Pearl_  could bring with her, both in riches, as well as in intimidation. But there was only one problem; Jack Sparrow sailed under no colours but his own.  
  
A day in port in Tortuga, and Jack had headed towards Port Royal, lost alone and in dire need of the voice of reason Will had to offer in situations such as these…or the ones that followed.   
  
“Permission to board the ship, Captain?”  
  
“This,” Jack retorted without turning to see the newcomer, “my darling, is a dinghy.”  
  
Then he did turn, in silence, staring into the dark eyes of what he’d recently had come to consider as his destiny, seeing that there was no way of avoiding the man. The reality that Jack himself made sure the returning was inevitable bore no weight in his mind as he reached out a hand.   
  
Will took it, only standing there for a passing spell, feeling remarkably like some grave discussion was taking place with mere touch, and as the invitation, the softening of Jack’s eyes became too compelling, he climbed into the boat wordlessly, taking a seat next to Jack.   
  
“’S a fine evening,” Jack cracked the silence with a slur, grabbing the empty bottle for Will to see as an evident explanation.  
  
“You know we could just leave. I told Anna I might be away for a while.”  
  
“I meant to do that,” Jack confessed, then turned to see Will‘s face. “But then I couldn’t leave you behind and be all imprisoned again,” he waved an arm to represent the entire world, all the oceans being his capturers. “It’s not freedom,” Jack shook his head solemnly. “Not without you.”  
  
While Will was still finding his words to echo Jack’s, Jack himself seemed to clamber onto another thought; “Ashes, you say? How can you know what mine tastes like?”  
  
Jack’s drunken slur made Will smile fondly, the whole situation too absurd to need even a response other than the obvious; “What a man can do...”   
  
Laughing, the mirth relaxing the last kinks of Jack’s tenseness, he bowed his head briefly, closing his eyes, and looked up again, eagerly beckoning the moment of which, even in his dreams, he’d never truly dared dream.   
  
Ashes it was not, when Will cradled the back of Jack’s head on his palm, Jack snaking his hand to the nape of Will’s neck, slowly, deliberately stretching out the moment of their lips finally meeting lightly, gradually deepening, fulfilling feelings so deeply buried that when they emerged, from now, everlasting…Ashes it was not.

__________________________________


End file.
